


The Space Between

by peppermint_smile



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Angst, F/M, idk I wrote this in like an hour, like always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8790400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_smile/pseuds/peppermint_smile
Summary: Tess supposes that is enough.





	

When Tess was in ninth grade, she read _Romeo and Juliet_ with her class, and she was the only one who didn’t kiss the teacher’s ass and sing its praise. She hated it and made sure she said as much in her assigned essay, because it was overrated and just plain unrealistic. Her teacher - who devoted his life to learning Shakespeare and teaching it - still gave her an A.

  
It was just as well though. With Joel, she doesn't feel butterflies. There’s no singing angels and twanging harps overhead when they see each other; there’s no signs from God that he’s the one for her. With Joel, there’s cursing men and gunfire and a shitload of adrenaline kicking in her ears. He doesn’t wax poetic about her, or the things she makes him feel. He doesn't bend on one knee and swear the world to her, and he sure as hell doesn't lose out on any chance he gets to remind her of any and every fuck up she's ever made.

  
She doesn't look at Joel and feel the starry-eyed love she's read about in books, seen in the movies.

  
She looks at Joel and she feels content.

  
Tess supposes that is enough.

  
\----

  
It’s late August when he ambles into the apartment one day, tossing something onto the countertop toward her.

  
“What’s this?” she asks, picking it up curiously. It’s bundled haphazardly in crumpled old newspaper, and the afternoon sun makes the newsprint tacky on her fingers when she begins to gently tear at the wrappings.

It’s a candle, and a gently used one at that. Though the orchid wax has melted nearly halfway down the jar by the short, blackened wick, it’s a rare find for them.

  
He’s pretending not to watch her from the corner of his eye, busying himself with shuffling through the inventory lists she was working on. “Just somethin’ I picked up down in the market since, y’know, you’re always complainin’ about the smell around here. They told me it was uh, lavender scented or somethin’, I think. Thought you’d get good use out of it.”

  
She squints at the grimy label. _Lilac and Raindrops._ Huh. Well. The corner of her mouth quirks upward as she shoots him a half-grin. “Thanks, Texas. Didn’t know you liked me that much.”

   
\----

   
He takes his time with her later that night, undressing her, touching her, bringing her off with his fingers and his mouth. He guides her with his hands on her hips, pushing and pulling her, up and down in a smooth, slow rhythm. It feels good, too good having him like this, hearing the wet noises they make; she loves the way he feels when he’s inside her, the way his heart stutters underneath her palms planted on his chest.

  
“Christ, Tess,” he breathes, speeding up his thrusts. _“Fuck.”_

  
She leans forward and presses their foreheads together, both damp with sweat, and he groans, moving one hand behind her neck and crushing their mouths together. She comes just like that, shaking and quivering, and she can feel him warm and pulsing inside her a moment later.

  
\----

  
She’s content to lay there with him, tangled like this, sweaty and stinking of sex and one another’s skin while he traces patterns against her spine with his fingers, the candle burning low on the crate they use as a nightstand. She glances up at him absentmindedly, and it slips out before she can stop it.

  
“Who did you love before me?”

  
He looks at her, a bit startled, then his face falls into something so incredibly sad that immediately, she wants to take it back. The look in his eyes tells her that he’s broken, so much more broken than she imagined, and it makes her ache inside.

  
She brushes the hair off of his forehead with her fingertips and kisses him softly, whispering a soft apology as she pulls him over on top of her; letting him slip between her legs again and touch her. She pulls him in, determined, and when he pushes into her again she finds he’s still warm and slick from before.

  
He fucks her hard, hard and fast into their bed, driving into her so desperately that it almost hurts, his breath huffing out against the damp skin of her neck and he holds her so tightly it makes her heart ache.

  
“Joel,” she whispers, wrapping her legs around him and squeezing, holding him in. His whole body shudders when he comes, panting in ragged gasps. She tries to apologize again, but when she sees that shuttered look in his eyes, the one that says he can’t tell her - or won’t - she veers back, away from those icy waters, and lets him hold her too close.

  
Tess supposes that is enough.


End file.
